


ditto

by havisham



Series: havisham's SASO 2017 works collection [25]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, im a messy bitch who LIVES for drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: It's not the best choice, maybe, but it keeps happening and Daiki would never say no to any of it.





	ditto

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for SASO 2017, Bonus Round 2: Tic-Tac-Toe, for the [prompt](): _Aokuro, infidelity._

It was with a sense of triumph, carelessly displayed, that Daiki opened the door to let Kuroko inside. “Bored already, Tetsu?” he drawled, and smiled even when Kuroko ignored him. It didn’t matter, did it? Not when Kuroko came to him, thought of him, and not -- any other person in the world. He was still the best at giving Kuroko what he needed, after all. 

“Take off your clothes,” Kuroko said briskly and Daiki complied, smirking. 

*

It never took long, which was both disappointing and convenient. After all, Daiki was busy too. More busy than Kuroko, no doubt. He didn’t even do anything but stare at a computer all day, while Daiki had to sweat and hustle for his daily bread. 

Kuroko’s tongue licked off that sweat, and his hand gripped tightly against Daiki’s arm. He’d leave a mark, except ---

“Tetsu,” Daiki said, tenderly, knocking him away. Kuroko scowled at him and bit deeply in a place where Daiki’s uniform wouldn’t show. 

*

They fucked on the couch, the new one that Satsuki had picked out for him on the grounds that the old one probably could support organic life at this point. Daiki had picked out a dark enough fabric, this time, to make sure new stains didn’t show so much. 

She still looked out for him, even after all this time, although she’d washed her hands of his personal life since college. “It’s too big of a mess for me to fix, Dai-chan,” she said, looking sad -- and then relieved when Daiki had accepted her words easily enough. 

Besides, she had her own life now -- a career, a boyfriend who had proposed to her almost as soon as they had met (and they hadn’t even met in middle-school! Satsuki was doing something right.)

All normal. All good for Satsuki. He was happy for her, really he was. 

Just like he was happy for Kuroko for moving on from him. Except Kuroko hadn’t really moved on, had he? 

Daiki had the come splattered across his stomach to prove it. 

*

Kuroko wasn’t a cuddler. Daiki was. 

But if he couldn’t wrap his arms around Kuroko and hold him fast for a few hours, he opted for the next best thing. “Tetsu, I’m exhausted,” he whined, lifting up a limp arm to Kuroko’s face. “Feed me.” 

Kuroko wrinkled his nose distrustfully. “Do you even have food to prepare here, Aomine-kun?”

“You might have to go down to the combini to get some -- it’s just downstairs, after all.” Then, in a burst of generosity, he said, “Take my wallet.” 

“How do you even survive,” Kuroko said, shrugging on his clothes. 

“I live above a combini,” Daiki said patiently.

He lifted himself out of his languor for long enough to snatch away Kuroko’s pants and palm at his cock. Kuroko winced, muttering that it was too soon, but he didn’t move away. They stood like this for a moment, eye to eye, faces touching, before Kuroko shook himself away and went. 

He’d left his mobile resting on Daiki’s coffee table. It rang the moment the door closed on Kuroko. Daiki ignored it in favor of taking a nap. When he woke up, it was ringing again. Irritated now, Daiki reached out for it and answered it. 

“The fuck do you want?” he growled into the phone, trying to sound as murderous as possible. 

“Aomine? What are you doing answering Kuroko’s phone?” Kagami asked him, sounding tinny and far away. Was he in America now? Daiki forgot. He’d gone to his going-away party too. There hadn’t even been enough booze to smooth over the awkwardness, what a waste. 

“Ah? No honorifics, you ass? I mean, wrong number,” Daiki said, hanging up. He went back to sleep, and woke up to the smells of dinner emanating from his long-neglected kitchen.

He padded into the kitchen, mobile still in hand, and slipped it into Kuroko’s pocket. 

“I may have fucked up,” he said, trying to snag a spoonful of curry and tip it into his mouth. Kuroko, who had been in the middle of chopping vegetables, stopped what he was doing and got out of his phone, frowning. 

“... I should go,” he said, after reviewing the call log and probably reading any texts Kagami had sent him. 

“You don’t want to eat?” Daiki said, grabbing a relatively clean plate from the pile. “More for me, then.” 

“Aomine-kun, you know I can’t do this anymore --” Kuroko had grace to look ashamed. Daiki smiled at him. 

“I understand, Tetsu,” he said, bending down his head for a moment. As Kuroko left, he muttered, mostly to himself, “See you next week, then?” 


End file.
